


Linked

by walkinginspace



Series: Gateways [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Character Double, Crossing Timelines, F/F, F/M, Gen, Hospitalization, I Still Blame Tumblr, Mental Health Issues, Metaphysics, Psychology, Referenced Eating disorder, Referenced Suicide Attempt, Self-Acceptance, Spatio-Temporal Anomaly, Telepathic Medicine, Telepathy, The Void, one sex scene, referenced self-harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-10-29 12:37:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17808086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkinginspace/pseuds/walkinginspace
Summary: “All the synapses in her brain are losing cohesion. We need to get her to intensive carenow. What happened, Mr. Smith?”“A psychic link device... used on someone we think might be a completely untrained empath.”“Oh, dear.”That was when Silvio started running.If you haven't read Part 1 of the series, this story won't make sense.





	1. Telepath

**Author's Note:**

> Rated E for the sex scene at the end of chapter two.

“River, go to the wardrobe and get... oh, I don't know, some kind of robe or something,” the Doctor said. “I doubt Marissa would appreciate being brought in nude.”

“Definitely not. She probably wouldn't like it if you went in nude, either.”

“Oh, but the Sisters don't care. They...” River was staring daggers at him. “All right, all right. I'll put my clothes on.”

“Thank you, sweetie.”

“Make sure you wear yours, too!” he said as he started for the console room.

“I'm not the one who needs reminders, dear,” she called back to him.

By the time she'd shimmied into one of her loose jumpsuits and a pair of boots, and rolled Marissa into a tan-colored robe, the Doctor was already at the doorway, impatient to get going.

“I'd like to see how quickly you could dress someone if they were comatose and weighed at least as much as you did.”

“Pretty quickly, I should think.” River glared again, but the Doctor wasn't even paying attention. “Now, then, I suppose I'll have to...”

With no small amount of effort, he finally got Marissa into his arms.

“You weren't kidding about her weight.”

“Should I take that personally?”

“But she's so short.”

“She's also wider than me.”

“Really?” He looked down at the limp figure he was holding. “Well, I suppose she _is_ larger round the middle...”

“Doctor!”

“Out we go, then,” he said, as if he'd been completely focused the whole time. It was one of those traits that River found both endearing and incredibly irritating.

Naturally, the Doctor had parked them right in the main lobby, meaning that the instant they walked out of the TARDIS they were surrounded by half a dozen security guards.

“Hello! Really need to get by... have someone I need to check in...”

“It's all right,” a low voice said. “I know him.”

“Silvio!” the Doctor exclaimed as the guards moved back. “I'd give you a hug, but...”

“Difficult with a biped in your arms.” He took a step toward the Doctor, looking down at Marissa. “Human?”

“Yes.”

Silvio tapped a tiny black dot that had been inserted into the skin on his shoulder. “Small bed to main lobby, please.” A few moments later, the Doctor put Marissa gently on the gurney in front of them.

Silvio pulled out a small oval device and began to scan, looking at it intensely as it beeped and whirled.

“All the synapses in her brain are losing cohesion,” he said. “We need to get her to intensive care _now_. What happened, Mr. Smith?”

“A psychic link device... used on someone we think might be a completely untrained empath.”

“Oh, dear.”

That was when Silvio started running.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Every manual organ monitor we have.” A green-skinned, bug-eyed doctor was speaking – or, rather, clicking – her way quickly through a set of orders. “Concentrated brain tissue monitor. IVs 10, 27, and 325. Muscle and fluid analyses. Get a stasis chamber ready. ”

“Yes, ma'am.” A large group of humanoid attendants scattered to their tasks. Dr. Naguib fixed her eyes on the Doctor, who was watching absently as attendants surrounded the bed, opening the front of Marissa's robe and putting an assortment of gadgets all over her body and head.

“Let me see those devices,” Dr. Naguib said briskly.

River took out the open box and handed it to Dr. Naguib. “Marissa was adamant that I not close the box. I'm not sure why.”

“She probably sensed that closing it would kill her.”

River looked up sharply. “What?”

“You see the material lining the inside of the case?” River and the Doctor peered at the dark green, marbled interior. “It's called alathanium – it was developed as a general telepathic blocker over a thousand years ago. If you'd closed that lid, her remaining link to reality would have been cut off, and her self would have been utterly destroyed. As it is, I'm not sure how much of her physical brain we can save, never mind getting back any part of her spirit.”

“Spirit? Since when do medical doctors believe in spirits?” The Doctor adjusted his bow tie as he stood a little straighter.

“There is a certain essence in all living things whose definition in medical science is constantly changing, but which a telepath or empath senses as easily as you or I might smell a burning log. Some claim it is merely brain waves, or the energy exuded by all sentient forms – but from my own training and experiences, I'm inclined to think it reaches far beyond either of those definitions. I cannot be so narrow-minded as to dismiss it as a mere physiological function. I use the word spirit for lack of a better descriptor.”

“Speaking of empaths... do you think Marissa could actually be one?” River asked.

“Her brain is so scrambled at this point that it's impossible to tell. An analysis of what these devices do might help, though. Do you have the schematics?”

River shook her head.

“All right.” Dr. Naguib looked over her shoulder. “Corgo. Bernice. Get me composition and telepathic analyses on the devices. Don't move either of them any further than six feet from the patient.” Two attendants fluttered off on sets of iridescent wings. “Aalisi, call Dr. Koskelar. I need an emergency consult, stat. This patient is dying.”

“The stasis chamber is almost ready, ma'am.”

“Excellent. I'll double-check the chamber protocols. If you wouldn't mind staying with the bereaved while they wait?”

“We're not...” the Doctor began, but Naguib was already speeding away.

“It's fine,” River muttered. “We're the closest thing to mourners that she has in this universe.”

“Not necessarily.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“An idea. A theory. Haven't worked out the kinks yet. I'll let you know if I do.”

Corgo and Bernice had set up a tall table next to Marissa, running instruments over the psychic devices and muttering to each other in speech so fast that it sounded like buzzing. River shook her head, then walked to a chair that had been placed against the stark white walls.

“Intensive care walls are always the same,” the Doctor remarked as he took the chair next to hers. “Always, always white. Where's the creativity? Doesn't anyone just get incredibly fed up with plain, boring old white?”

“Stains show up more easily on white.”

“Mmm. Good point.”

Neither of them spoke again until Dr. Naguib returned, a cuddly-looking, tawny-colored humanoid trailing after her. They reminded River of an old teddy bear from her childhood in Leadworth. It almost made her feel nostalgic.

“Mr. Smith. This is Dr. Koskelar, our telepathic medicine specialist.”

“You may call me Alor,” the humanoid said. “Gender neutral pronouns. Your names and pronouns, please?”

“I'm Mr. Smith. He and him. This is Dr. River Song, she and her. Marissa is she and her, too.”

Alor was looking at the Doctor and River, their face furrowing, which only made them look even more adorable. They waved at Dr. Naguib with a webbed hand. “We need privacy, please.”

“I can't give you a full sound lock... she's too unstable. Eighty percent is the best I can do.”

“Noted.” Alor waited until Dr. Naguib had left before turning to face the Doctor. When they spoke, their voice was gravelly and quiet.

“What species are you?”

“What relevance does that have?”

“I can't read you. In fact, I can barely sense that you have brain waves at all. But you're clearly sentient, and the brain waves I _can_ discern... well, they're quite baffling. I can't say that happens often.” They smiled disarmingly, and River had a sudden, strange impulse to go and hug them.

“What exactly are you trying to read?”

“Nothing personal, if that's what you're worried about. The Haltath don't engage in anything so unethical as reading someone's thoughts without their consent, at least not these days. I was just looking at their general patterns and constructs – superficial, but they can tell me some key factors about an individual. Species is one of them.”

“Why do you want to know?” The Doctor was edgy now.

“Are you the one who was linked with Marissa?”

“No, not me,” he said. “That was River.”

Alor looked at River. “Your brain is a little easier to read. Some of your constructs match those I'm familiar with. You're at least part human.” River nodded.

“But the other part – it feels just like Mr. Smith. Just as unreadable, and with most of the same constructs. The part of you that isn't human is his species. If you want Marissa to have any chance of survival, you need to tell me what it is.”

River looked at the Doctor, who nodded. She took a deep breath. “I'm a child of the TARDIS. It means that my genetics are part human... and part Time Lord.”

“Time Lord?” Alor looked at the Doctor sharply. “The tales of my people say that your race died in the Time War.”

“All but me,” he said wearily. “I'm the last.”

“But you said that Dr. Song is part Time Lord.”

“Being a child of the TARDIS isn't quite the same thing,” River said. “The TARDIS – the ship we flew in – travels through space and time. I was conceived on the ship while she was traveling through the Time Vortex, meaning I inherited some of her genes.”

“Your ship has a gender?”

“And a mind of her own.” The Doctor smiled.

“A mind that touched Dr. Song's right at the moment of her creation, and helped shape her thoughts.” Alor paused. “Does your TARDIS have a spirit? A soul?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Is there a way to connect with the soul of your ship directly?”

“Far too dangerous. Even a Time Lord has to be very careful when trying to control any part of it, and we were exposed to the Time Vortex for millions of years. If you tried to look into it, your mind would burn up.”

“What about the telepathic circuits?” River asked. “That connection isn't damaging.”

“No, not usually.” The Doctor said it with great reluctance.

“What makes connecting with the circuits different than direct contact with her soul?” Alor was deep in thought.

“She can sense what you're thinking, but it isn't in the nature of a TARDIS to be able to speak to you directly. It's unfortunate, really... she's got quite the personality. Sometimes you can tell her mood by the things she shows you or does for you, but she keeps plenty of secrets. Even from me.” The Doctor gave another affable smile, but River wasn't fooled.

“So a connection is possible,” Alor said.

“From you to her, yes.”

“Let me ask you another question.” Alor's eyes were taking on a slightly vacant expression. “The energy surrounding you now... does it have anything to do with your TARDIS?”

“What do you mean?”

“There's a telepathic field connected to both you and Dr. Song. I believe one of its functions is as a sort of translator. Is that correct?”

River looked sharply at the Doctor, who scrutinized Alor very closely before he spoke. “Yes. The TARDIS leaves a trace of her psychic energy with her passengers when they exit – it can translate any language in the universe. Even if she leaves the area, it can stay in a person's mind for quite a long time.”

“You say the connection is one-way, but she's inside both of your minds right now, is she not?” Alor didn't wait for a reply; instead, they fixed their gaze on the Doctor. “Can I assume that Marissa was also a passenger on your ship?”

The Doctor nodded.

“So your ship's soul would have been connected to Marissa as well, and may still be, if the trace has remained in her mind. That may have some impact on her case. I can't know for sure unless I'm able to analyze what your ship can do psychically – but to complete such an analysis, I would need to meet her. Your TARDIS.”

River could see the Doctor's conflict plainly on his face, and it was just as obvious to Alor, because they looked at the Doctor with something that approximated human sympathy.

“Normally I'd give you more time to decide, Mr. Smith, but under the circumstances I'm afraid I have to insist that you make your decision now,” Alor said. “Your friend's mind is clinging on by the barest of threads, and if we wait much longer, she will die. My instincts tell me that our exploration must begin with your ship.”

“Never ignore the instincts of a Haltath,” the Doctor said. “All right... I'll introduce you. Let's go for a walk.”

Alor smiled, then turned and followed the Doctor and River as they made their way to the lobby.

~~~~~~~~~~

Upon entering the TARDIS, the first thing the Doctor did was set a new heading. As he worked at the console, Alor stood in one place several feet inside the door, a neutral expression on their face – or what River perceived to be neutral, anyway. Then the TARDIS jumped, throwing them all slightly off-balance as it reached its destination.

“All right. We're in deep space, sometime in the 9000s, on the outer reaches of Silingrad Four. This area is completely and totally deserted for millions of light years. I've been told that a Haltath analyzes best in telepathic isolation, and this is about as remote as it gets.”

“Your ship's telepathic shielding is exceptionally strong,” Alor said. “I'm not certain I'd be getting any spatial readings even if they existed.”

They walked up to the console, slowly circling it as they peered first at the controls, and then at the glass tubing in the center. “What I'm sensing is that this is where her soul rests – or a part of it, anyway. Most of her belongs to a realm we cannot touch. You were afraid that a direct connection would put me in danger, Mr. Smith, and you were certainly correct... but your TARDIS is as aware of it as you are, and has been guiding me in my explorations. Indicating all the places I mustn't go.”

“You're actually communicating with her?” It was River who asked the question this time, with not a little wonder in her voice.

“It's not communication in a literal sense – she gives no images, no words. There are thousands of types of psychic layers and energies in the universe; my species naturally senses dozens of them, and I have trained in many more. It means that I'm able to perceive her in a way your words cannot describe. Her signals are actually quite straightforward, but they would be difficult to access for most species. By the way, am I correct in my guess that you both possess some telepathic ability?”

River's surprise showed quite clearly, but the Doctor's inscrutable mask never wavered. Alor looked at the two of them, then lowered their head a little.

“This is information you didn't wish to share. I apologize for the intrusion. In this case, I only ask because of Dr. Song's part in the accident. If you have some sort of telepathic ability, Dr. Song, I must know.”

“Call me River. Time Lords have touch telepathy – we have to make physical contact to create a psychic link. Since I'm only part Time Lord, though, my abilities are far weaker than the Doctor's.”

“Did you engage in any form of that telepathy when you were linked with Marissa?”

River shook her head. “I haven't had enough training to do much more than shield my mind and communicate with Mr. Smith. I wouldn't even consider attempting it with anyone else.”

Alor nodded. “Would you consent to making a link with me, so that I can better understand your telepathic process?”

River looked at the Doctor, who stood for an interminable time, staring at Alor penetratingly. Then he walked close to River, looking into her eyes as he spoke in a hushed voice.

“Letting a powerful telepath analyze your mind is incredibly risky. Anything could happen. If their species is able to learn how to breach our telepathic defenses, and we ever get involved in a conflict with them...”

“Do I really have a choice?” River whispered back. “I have a feeling that I'm going to end up involved in this regardless. Wouldn't it be safer if they had all the facts first?”

“Probably, yes,” the Doctor admitted. “But I still don't like it.”

“Neither do I, but I don't see what else we can do.”

The Doctor didn't reply. After a few seconds, River took a step or two toward Alor, whose eyes seemed almost to have pixellated in her absence. Within an instant of River looking at them, their eyes changed back to a dark, murky color.

“What do I need to do?” she asked.

“After you've connected to me, transmit something to me. A single image, or a few words, should be adequate. Once you've done so, I will attempt to send you a message of my own.”

“Sounds simple enough.” River walked closer to the alien, then looked down at her palms. “To initiate a link, we would normally put our hands on the other person's face. Is that all right?”

“You may proceed.”

River slowly touched her fingertips to Alor's temples: their skin was warm, warmer than the average human, and the fur on their face was slightly prickly. She closed her eyes.

<Hello? Are you there?> she thought to them. For the first second or two, she couldn't sense anything at all... it was as though she'd spoken to an inanimate object.

Then River felt a vast, confident presence open up, the depths of the mind swirling in front of her just before an image presented itself to River. It was of a small Haltath, playing in a field and wearing a crown of flowers and purple grasses.

<My son.> River could feel the smile in Alor's mind before they withdrew the connection. River lowered her hands, contemplating the picture even as its colors and details began to fade. The vividness and clarity of the image proved to her that Alor had an incredible memory – not to mention formidable mental abilities.

“Accessing your mind requires a wending sort of path, but I will remember it. If we need to link again, there should be no problems.” Alor turned toward the Doctor. “Now. Your TARDIS. You said that there are ways to connect to her telepathic circuits more directly. Will you show me how?”

The Doctor nodded, then walked toward a panel of the console, gesturing to a raised black dial. “All you have to do is put your hand on that and think.”

Alor didn't reply; they simply followed the instructions and closed their eyes.

They were silent for what felt to the Doctor like an extraordinary amount of time. River, who had a little more patience, found herself thinking about how Alor's mind had looked just before they'd transmitted the memory. It had looked like an entire set of galaxies laid out before her – the overwhelming impression was that she could never have traversed its entirety, even if she'd had a thousand years to explore it. What sorts of things was Alor able to store inside that mind, for it to be so complex and far-reaching?

Eventually Alor opened their eyes, and slowly removed their hand. They seemed to be collecting their thoughts, and opened their mouth several times before shutting it again. Finally the voice came out, its quality almost grating.

“She's remarkable.”

The Doctor smiled widely, a reaction that surprised River. “Yes, she is. What did she show you?”

“As much as my mind could hold about the essence of what she is. Time and space at her fingertips, and a phenomenal, overarching knowledge of past, present, and future. I can sense that essence in both of you, now that I know what to look for. You don't see time as easily as she does, but she has touched you both powerfully – especially you, Mr. Smith. Your ability to see time with such clarity is an exceptional gift.”

“Not always a fun one, though.” The Doctor's face was neutral now, but River could see the haunted look in his eyes.

“With great ability comes great consequence. A lesson my people learned a long time ago. Much of what eluded me about your mind is a little sharper, but I'm not sure if my people will ever fully understand how your gifts work.”

“Well, that's a relief.” The Doctor gave a vague half-smile. “But I think the more important question is: did you learn from the TARDIS what you needed to know?”

“I would prefer to speak of that when we are back in the security and privacy of the hospital.”

“In that case...” The Doctor circled around the console, pulling levers and pushing buttons, and the TARDIS gave another jolt, a flare of yellow moving over the room as it landed.

“This time I've parked us quite close. In fact, you might say we're right on top of things.”

“Really?” River's hands went to her hips. “You had to park _there_?”

“Thought I'd save us the walk. Besides, we don't want to waste any time, do we?”

“Where have we parked?” Alor asked pleasantly.

“In Marissa's room, of course."

“Mr. Smith, I don't think that's...” But the Doctor was already moving to the TARDIS door. A few seconds later, River heard his voice sound loudly just beyond them.

“Don't shoot! It's me... Mr. Smith. I was just here!”

River sighed. “I hate him sometimes.”

“No you don't!” he called out.

River simply shook her head, then gestured for Alor to walk in front of her.

~~~~~~~~~~

After security had finally accepted the TARDIS' presence, and after it had been sterilized by a large cluster of ICU nurses, the Doctor and River were able to turn their full attention back on Alor – and Marissa.

They'd been gone all of seven minutes, but during that time Marissa's transfer into stasis had almost been completed. The majority of the work, Dr. Naguib told them, had been in shifting what was left of her mind into storage, a process whose final stages Alor had assisted in while the Doctor had been trying to placate the hospital staff.

“We're just waiting on Alor's go-ahead,” Dr. Naguib explained. She looked over at Alor again. “The room must remain at 80% sound lock. Try to talk as quickly as possible.”

“I will.”

When everyone but the Doctor, River, and Alor had left, the quiet seemed almost eerie.

“I'm afraid it's not good news,” Alor began.

“What does that mean? I want every detail.” The Doctor's eyes were piercing.

“I had thought that perhaps River's link to your TARDIS might be of some use in retrieving Marissa's consciousness, especially if a trace of the TARDIS had been left with Marissa,” Alor said. “Or that a procedure to restore Marissa's mind might be jump-started with the psychic link that was used. I have been forced to conclude, however, that they will not be enough.”

“Why?”

“Her physical brain still functions well enough that the biological problems can be fixed – we've long had precise templates of human brains, and after we choose the one that best matches Marissa's, we can fix the remaining abnormalities with atomic reconstruction. The problem is that we lack enough of a telepathic template to reconstruct her consciousness. The psychic link, as far as we can tell, only stored a small part of her self – not nearly enough to rebuild an entire mind. As for your ship, she held nothing of Marissa in any parts of her that I could access.”

The Doctor was thinking. “But if you could get a telepathic template, you could repair her mind?”

“It isn't a guarantee – there is a large degree of risk associated with any kind of psychic restoration, never mind one of this caliber. However, such a template is the only thing that would make healing possible. There simply isn't enough of her left to give back any semblance of what she used to be.”

The Doctor took several steps back and forth before he spoke again. “What if we _could_ get you a telepathic template? A complete one? What if, for example, we could find an exact duplicate of Marissa?”

Alor's eyes went wide. “Mr. Smith, you can't use a clone for such a procedure, or an android, or any such artificial being. Their psychic prints would not be identical enough to take root.”

“But what if there was a natural, breathing human who has the same brain as Marissa?” The Doctor turned to look at River. “If this Marissa came from a separate universe, then maybe...”

River's eyes lit up. “Maybe there's another Marissa in _our_ universe.” She turned to Alor. "Could it work? If the Marissa of this universe was a direct counterpart, would her template be enough?"

Alor's face crinkled in on itself, making them look absurdly adorable. “If such a person exists, and is a true match for Marissa, it may be possible – provided her counterpart's life experiences have been similar enough. However, I can make no promises. There are too many unknown variables.”

“Well, I _can_ promise you that if there is another Marissa out there somewhere, we'll find her.” The Doctor's eyes were bright now. For the first time since this had all began, River felt a small flicker of hope stir within her.

“In that case, I will recommend that she be locked into stasis indefinitely,” Alor said. “However, with this sort of psychic injury, even stasis is temporary – her deterioration can only be slowed, not halted. If you do find a counterpart, for her to have the best chance of survival, I recommend you take no longer than three or four hours to return.”

“Alor, the TARDIS is a time ship,” the Doctor said. “We can be back in less than a minute if we want to.”

He'd turned to go when Alor's voice sounded once more.

“Oh, and Mr. Smith... make sure not to park your ship directly in Marissa's room next time. We'll need the space.”

“Got it. Come on, River! No time to waste!” However, she stayed outside the doors for just a moment after he'd gone, turning to Alor.

“I'll do my best to make sure he gets back when he's supposed to,” she said, then winked.

Alor simply smiled.


	2. Partygoing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a mini-adventure.

The Doctor dashed to the console, reaching it just as River shut the TARDIS door behind her.

“Okay. When you met Marissa, did she tell you anything about herself that we might use to find her? Like where she's from? We already know she comes from the year 2017.”

“She mentioned that she was from Canada.”

“In that time period, Canada was the second largest country on the planet. I'm going to need a bit more detail than that.”

“Yes, I know.”

River's mind went back to the scene where she'd first met Marissa, and her eyes flashed.

“She had a purse with her. A silver clutch. It might have had some sort of ID in it.”

“Did you see it when you were cuffing her at the party?”

“No. She must have dropped it somewhere.” River's face fell. “Oh, no.”

The Doctor looked grim. “We're going to have to go back there and get it.”

“But we'll be intersecting our own time streams.”

“I know. We'll just have to be very, very careful.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“This time, standing out is going to be our camouflage,” the Doctor said. “We'd be far more noticeable in clothing that didn't reflect the light. And this time we're going to have to go even brighter.”

“Why?”

“You couldn't look at yourself when we went in the first time because the light was so painful. If we raise the reflection level on your dress, your past self won't be able to look at you, either.”

“What about you?” River asked. “It didn't blind you the same way it did me.”

“That doesn't mean it was pleasant.” The Doctor grimaced. “Our hostess was a bit too fond of shine for my tastes. Also, don't forget that we were rushing to escape several bloodthirsty Trilezians. Something out of our direct line of sight that blinded both of us, literally or figuratively, was the last thing we'd have wanted to pay attention to in that moment.”

“That doesn't mean we won't.”

“No, but I don't see any other option. Without that bag, there's no chance at all that we can find her counterpart in this universe.”

River said nothing, because, of course, he was right.

The Doctor continued. “So all we have to do is infiltrate a party without us seeing ourselves, retrieve a bright object in a sea of even brighter ones, and make it back to the TARDIS without getting ripped apart. Oh, and avoid getting tempted by that fruit, because getting infected again would be far too distracting. Do you remember how it smelled?”

River did. Even the memory stirred something inside her, and she couldn't help licking her lips.

“Good. Now forget about it. Oh, yes... I've got something else for you to wear.” The Doctor zipped to the other side of the control console, pushing a few buttons, after which River heard a popping sound.

“What's that?”

“Tiny drawer. Never know when you're going to need to store tiny things.” He plucked something out of it, then beamed, holding out a small gold ring.

“Band's a bit plain, isn't it?”

“This is a bio-damper,” the Doctor said. “It'll mask your bio signature. The Trilezians will find you a much less tasty dish if you're wearing it.”

“Go on, then.” River held out her left hand, tilting her ring finger toward him. He looked at her as he slid it on, and her eyes fixed on the circlet as it settled just above her palm. She touched it gently, giving it a slight twist before looking up at him, her green eyes luminous.

“So what are  _you_  going to wear? Since we tore up your best suit.”

“They'll just have to make do with my second best,” the Doctor said dismissively. “Still got the shiny cuffs and handkerchief. And my one-of-a-kind bowtie.”

“ _Very_  one of a kind.” When they were done with the Trilezians, River was going to shred it at the first opportunity.

“River. One more thing. Take your blaster.”

River grinned, then pulled her gun from somewhere inside the folds of her jumpsuit. “Never go anywhere without it.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“We're going to have to go in the front door.” There was something in the Doctor's voice that she didn't like.

“You don't sound happy about that.”

“Never park next to Trilezian cruisers. Isn't on my list of rules, but it ought to be. There's still a small chance that they'll be able to smell you.”

River looked up from where she'd been fixing a thick diamond band around her waist, carefully adjusting it to conceal her gun. “I thought the damper was supposed to cover that.”

“Well, yes. Most of it.” The Doctor nervously fiddled with his bow tie, and River winced. They were standing in dimness that was strange for the console room: the only glow came from the drive itself, but with her altered dress and their accessories, even that was almost too much for River's eyes to take.

“Wonderful. It'll be just like jumping into a pool full of sharks while bleeding.”

“A tiny scrape compared to a severed artery.”

“Sharks can smell one drop of blood in an entire swimming pool, Doctor.”

“They'd still have to catch you first.”

“Are you going to be my lifeguard, then?” River asked coyly. They were moving toward the door of the TARDIS, and he looked back at her with an expression that completely failed to reflect her humor.

“Just be ready to swim like hell.”

The Doctor got out first, looking around. After a moment he gestured to her, and she stepped forward, almost immediately covering her eyes as much as she could without being totally sightless.

“Well, so far so good. Everyone is already inside.”

“So what's the plan?” River took the Doctor's hand as they entered one of several doors along the hangar walls. The reflections of the lights were causing her incredible pain, and she dug her nails into his hand before she could process what she was doing.

"Ow!"

“Sorry. It's this damn dress. My eyes...”

“We shouldn't be too long. Best keep them shut until we get to the main room. I'll guide you.”

River closed her eyes, still clutching him tightly. The one thing she hated more than anything else in the universe was feeling helpless. The Doctor patted the back of her hand with his other, and she felt him lean in toward her. “Trust me,” he murmured.

_Always._

The going was much slower than River would have preferred for the next several minutes, as she walked blindly over what was, to her relief, a mostly smooth floor. Every time they passed an alien she couldn't help tensing a little, but the Doctor's cheerful greetings seemed to be working so far.

“Mostly servants,” he said to her when yet another set of footsteps had retreated. “Okay. We're almost there. I'll be on the side nearest the guests, and we'll go around them as fast as possible. Don't open your eyes until I tell you to, and when you do open them,  _don't_  cover them with your hand, no matter how much it hurts.” The reminder would have been incredibly condescending if River hadn't already felt the effects of the dress on her vision. She was going to need all the resolve she could muster to open them fully, never mind keeping them that way.

The familiar whir of his sonic echoed in the long, steel hallway, and she heard the clicks of several locks opening simultaneously.

“All right. Open your eyes in three... two...  _one_!”

They walked in, and it took everything River had not to immediately shut her eyes. The Doctor moved in front of her, temporarily obscuring her face from view of the other guests.

“Look at the ceiling, the walls – anywhere but at your dress. Try to keep it as far into your peripheral vision as you can.”

“I'll do my best.”

“Wait.” The Doctor stopped abruptly. “We're too early.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone is still talking. You're having a conversation with the ambassador of Rolekk. Isn't he an archaeologist?” The Doctor infused the word with a fair degree of ridicule. River pretended not to notice.

“Yes. He was telling me all about the things he's uncovered over the years. Some of them are quite valuable. Wonder if he'd mind if I took some of his dig sites.”

“You want to steal his finds?”

“We don't all have sonics and TARDISes. A girl's got make a living somehow. Darling, can we get any closer? I think this dress is making me nearsighted.”

“I'll try. Stay behind me, and don't make any sudden movements. Close your eyes till I tap the back of your palm three times.”

Once he gave the signal, she stepped to his side, barely avoiding gazing directly at her dress before focusing on the darkest spot of the wall she could find, which was still like staring at a slightly dimmed light bulb.

“All right. We're talking to Wijesa now.” He poked her in the side. “River, I thought I told you to put on your best face for this.”

River could just make out her incredibly bored expression. “There's a reason I went to get a drink. Marissa should appear any moment now... yes, there she is.”

A woman in a sequined, navy cocktail dress appeared, carrying a silver clutch that looked positively dull among the splendor decorating every other surface and outfit.

“And there's the bag.”

River looked behind Wijesa. The past Doctor had moved off, seemingly admiring something along the walls. The other River looked at the woman in white as she passed by the bathroom door, then peered suspiciously at Marissa as she fled into the washroom.

“I'm about to talk to her,” River said. “Soon you're going to crash into that girl and almost get her killed.”

“It wasn't me that crashed into her.”

“What are you talking about? I saw you.”

“No... I just picked up the platter. I was helping someone else who...” He turned to her abruptly. “Gotta go. Stay out of the crowd, and  _keep your eyes open.”_

“Doctor, what are you doing?”

He was sprinting as fast as he could through the breaks between groups... right toward his counterpart from the past.

“No!” River said, too loudly. A Trilezian looked over at her, the bright orange of his suit making her eyes feel like they were on fire. She blinked reflexively before she could stop herself,  and his expression immediately became haughty.

“Well, what do we have here?” He pointed his nose right at her face. River flashed her teeth, keeping her eyes open despite the incredible pain.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean any offense.”

“Your mere presence is offensive to me. The hostess may accept living prey at her banquets, and I don't quarrel with new mothers, but if you ever,  _ever_  blink at me again, I'll be happy to gnaw on your bones.”

River fought the anger rising up inside her, feigning meekness. “I'm sorry, sir. I will behave more acceptably.”

Something crashed loudly behind them. River turned her gaze toward it, and, thankfully, so did the orange-clad Trilezian. Everybody instinctively backed up as the maid crashed to the floor.

Out of the corner of her eye, River saw a flash of coattails under a table fairly close to her, followed by a set of formal shoes that were covered in pink liquid. At the exact same time, the other Doctor's top hat popped up a good distance away.

 _Causal loop,_  River thought. The future Doctor had caused the crash, which in turn had made the past Doctor cover for him. But had anyone seen the future Doctor as it had happened?

River shook her head internally. She couldn't worry about that now. With the Doctor stuck under a table, it was going to be up to her to find the bag.

River casually put a hand to the hilt of her gun, then began to make her way closer to the crowd. Her eyes were watering badly now, her head throbbing, but she ignored both as she searched the crowd unblinkingly.

River spotted Marissa just as the servers began bringing out the dishes with the fruit inside. She was making her way forward from a spot in the back of the crowd as Wijesa made her little speech. River was beginning to fidget, even though doing it made her dress reflect blazingly into her eyes; some kind of strange crawling feeling was starting to come over her.

It wasn't until River felt the first sheen of sweat break out on her forehead that she remembered what might be the biggest danger of all in the room.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marissa was making her way to a table, standing impatiently behind a group of Prish, who ate their fruits rapidly and without expression – then went back for seconds. What had happened to them afterward? Hopefully River wouldn't have cause to find out.

She moved forward slowly, her eyes aflame with pain, making sure to keep out of Marissa's direct line of sight. The past Doctor and River were clutched together, caressing each other, and River felt a warm wave travel through her that made her skin tingle even more.

Marissa reached out, taking a fruit and stroking it as if it was a lover. River was having trouble concentrating on the clutch now, with not just her pain to distract her, but the elevated hormone levels of all the people around her. Her temperature was already elevating, and the ache in her core grew stronger with every few steps she took toward the tables.

Marissa slowly peeled the fruit, then took a bite, closing her eyes as she chewed. Just watching her made River shudder. The scent of it was wafting toward her, and it was far more intoxicating than River remembered. It made her long to taste it.

Then Marissa took off in a flash, her clutch dropping to the ground as it was completely forgotten. River walked forward, her eyes fixed on the bag, when legs clad in a brilliant orange suit cut in front of her.

“Did you think you could hide from me forever?”

River looked up, slowly and unblinkingly, at the man. “I haven't the faintest idea what you mean.”

He grabbed her by the arm, and a flood of hormones surged through her. She staggered as she was thrown off balance, and the Trilezian grabbed her other hand, managing to dislodge the bio-damper in the process. Heads snapped toward her as the ring rolled across the floor.

“You see, we're about to have a feast... and you're going to be the main course.”

She found herself being spun around violently, the man's arm coming around her neck in a choke hold. All at once her training kicked in, and she reached downward to strike a crotch that wasn't there – evidently he had anticipated the move. She smirked to herself, bringing her hand up to slam against his face, then spun toward him, loosening the arm strangling her. She then whirled forward, and there was a sickening  _crack_  in his arm as a bone inside shattered.

“Sorry. I don't do feasts.” She thrust her knee into his face, then pulled him backward by his collar, slamming his head against the floor.

“Grab the human!” The man's voice boomed out as he stood up, one arm dangling uselessly by his side. River crouched defensively as she looked toward the area where her past self had marched Marissa forward. Marissa chose this precise moment to wrench herself from the other River's grip. Past Doctor was watching Marissa and River intently, too caught up in the situation to notice anything else.

She needed to create a distraction.

River pulled her gun from her waistband and pointed it at Orange Suit. “I wouldn't move unless you want to be blasted into tiny pieces.” She kept the gun aimed at his torso as she walked backward toward the tables, seeking the purse.  _Come on, come on, where are you..._

Several aliens were moving toward her now, forming a semi-circle in front of her. A moment later her backside hit one of the tables. As the table jolted slightly, an absolutely irresistible scent floated under her nose, and her entire body ached as she breathed in deeply.

“Looking for something?”

She turned her head to the side, beaming as the Doctor popped up, holding a silver rectangle in his hand.

“Two things, but I've got both of them now.” She skimmed the wrist that held the purse, and she made a noise in the back of her throat as the contact made her flush hotly. “I think it's time for a brilliant escape.”

Before he could answer, she shot at the ceiling just in front of her, and the aliens took a step back as she retrained the gun on them.

“Move away.  _Now_.”

“I don't think so,” Orange Suit snarled, lunging toward her.

“Men and your hormones. They'll get you every time.” River aimed straight at his chest, and a flash covered her vision as the energy discharge from her gun reflected on everyone's clothing. She clutched her head in pain.

“Left. Run. Go!”

The Doctor was pulling her by the hand, and she fired over and over into the crowd that was attempting to stop them. Her eyes weren't working properly anymore, even though she was finally able to blink, and shots she could normally land in her sleep were missing wildly. Then they were in the hallway leading toward the hangar, and the Doctor soniced the door shut.

“I need to close my eyes,” River croaked.

“Then take my hand and  _don't stop running_.” It was a blind frenzy after that, as the Doctor soniced reflective plate after reflective plate off the walls, making them crash and split behind him. The aliens chasing them were in an uproar, but evidently he'd caused too much destruction for them to follow swiftly.

Finally River could hear the sound of the TARDIS opening, and she rushed through, the Doctor directly behind her.

“I thought I told you to stay where you were.”

“Well, it's a good thing I didn't. Now I need you to help me get out of this dress.” River turned her head back in his direction, her eyes shut, and he understood.

As she undid her belt, he hastily unzipped the back. “River, how long did you spend looking at the reflections?”

“Too long.” She was pushing the cloth down over her hips, and the Doctor knelt down to gather the fabric in his hands – then looked up to see her bare arse cheeks hovering just above his face. He swallowed hard, his trousers beginning to feel tighter as a flush went through him.

“No knickers? Really?”

“Didn't feel like it.”

He ran to one of his storage containers just under the TARDIS, stuffing the dress inside and locking it with the sonic, then sprinted back to River, who was sitting in one of the chairs and clutching her head.

“How bad is it?” He began scanning her.

“It's pretty bad.” A single tear trickled down her cheek, and the Doctor wiped it gently with a finger.

“I'll get you something for the pain. How much can you see?”

“I don't know. I haven't opened my eyes since I got here.”

“I put the dress in one of the containers downstairs. I'm going to get a few things. Don't move.”

River laughed weakly. “Wasn't planning on it.”

When he finally returned, she was splayed out on the seat, her head resting against its top. “I was starting to wonder if you'd ever come back. You really ought to get some taller chairs.”

“Where would be the fun in that? Okay... sit up.” She moved slowly, the pounding in her head increasing as she did so. She still hadn't dared to open her eyes.

The Doctor put some sort of device near her hip, and then his voice sounded right in front of her. “I'm going to put some patches on your head that will take care of the headache. Hold still.”

When the first one touched her left temple, the relief began almost immediately. “Oh, that's wonderful.” He applied four more at different points on her forehead, and she could feel tension draining from muscles she didn't even know she had, as if a shunt had been put inside her skull.

“Leave those on for at a couple of minutes.”

“My eyes,” she whispered. “Are they going to be all right?”

“I have a regeneration device,” he said, picking up the gadget that had nestled into River's hip. “It will help, but we'll need to get you to the hospital after this. Open your eyes.”

Everything was grey and hazy when she looked at his face; only a small spot of vision was left in the center of each eye. A large black object appeared in front of her, and a light began to glow. Slowly but steadily, the grey mostly vanished, and objects became somewhat sharper, but the Doctor's machine finished working long before her eyes were normal.

“That's the best I can do. How much can you see? Look at the sonic.” He began to move it back and forth in front of her.

“My peripheral vision is a mess, and everything is blurry, but I can see colors again. Can I take that as a positive sign?”

“You're tracking fine.” He shut off the screwdriver. “There's a good chance that the Sisters can restore the rest of your sight.”

“Well, that's a relief. I really don't fancy the idea of glasses.”

The Doctor reached for her, and she took his arm as she stood up, wobbling almost imperceptibly as she quickly adjusted to the poorer vision.

“Back to the Sisters, then,” he said, reaching for a lever.

“Doctor, wait.” There was something in her voice that made his hearts pound; sure enough, she had stepped toward him with an unmistakable sway in her hips. “If you recall, I never did get to finish off with Marissa. And you had some unfinished business yourself.”

“River, I'd love to, but we really can't. Your eyes –”

“Are they stable for now?”

He ran the sonic over her eyes. “Yes, but...”

“Then shut up.” She grabbed him and pulled him down into a fierce kiss, and his sonic dropped to the floor, forgotten, as he kissed her back with equal ferocity. His trousers quickly tented as he pushed her bottom against the console.

“You  _are_  eager,” she murmured, her hand moving to his front. “I thought you would be. You've still got all those hormones running through you.”

“And you didn't wear any knickers.”

“Now why do you suppose that is?” She undid his belt buckle and swiftly pulled it from his waist, and it clanged loudly as it hit the floor. He was so hard that it was almost painful.

“You are a naughty girl, Dr. Song.”

“I'd better be.” His hands moved down to her ass, grasping both cheeks firmly as she slid down his zipper, letting his trousers fall in a puddle at his feet.

“Now that's what I call a bulge," she said appreciatively.

He flung off his suit jacket, and was starting to undo his shirt buttons when she reached up and stopped him.

“Leave it on.” She tugged at the band of his boxers, sliding them loosely over his erection and down his body. He pushed them out of the way with his foot, then reached behind her and unclasped her bra, tossing it so hard that it hit a wall with a thud. When he looked back at her, she was pulling off the last of the forehead patches.

His mouth immediately dropped to the nape of her neck, and she gripped him possessively as her breath hitched. “Is this going to be the hard and dirty kind of shagging?”

“You tell me.” He pinched one of her nipples and she gasped.

“So far, so good.” He moved downward, biting the skin of her breast, and she arched into him, moaning. He was prodding at all her weak points, skilfully and utterly without mercy, and incredible heat was building in her core.

“Is hard and dirty all right with you?” He took a nipple into his mouth and sucked forcefully as he gave the other another, sharper pinch. Her next moan was even louder.

“Yes, my love,  _yes_.”

His eyes were dark with desire as he slid his hand between her legs, gliding his fingers through the wetness building there. He used his thumb to trace a circle around her clit, and she leaned back against the console as she cried out.

“Doctor...” His two forefingers were circling her opening, dipping ever so slightly inside. Then he moved closer, resting his forehead against hers as his fingers slid further in, crooking roughly against the bundle of nerves they found there. It took all her willpower not to scream aloud.

“I want you.” His whisper was hot against her skin. She kissed him again, and when they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard. River was positively squirming under his touch.

“Just a second,” he said, slipping his fingers out of her. She made a frustrated noise as he quickly grabbed his sonic, pointing it at the panels.

“What are you...” River's sentence was cut off when the Doctor scooped her up. She wrapped herself around him, her sex pressing against his waist as he began to walk.

“I had to disable part of the console. Wouldn't want to hit something dangerous.”

“Have we ever done this here before?”

“Absolutely not.” He lowered her to the edge of a panel, and she shivered as he gripped one of her thighs in his palm.

“Are you ready?” he asked. His voice had dropped about an octave.

“Please...”

He entered her in one long, fluid motion, filling every centimeter of her, and he held her against the panel as he began to move with powerful strokes. He was pushing in so deeply that he was hitting her cervix with every thrust, but his pace was maddeningly slow, and after all the buildup, her frustration was rising quickly.

“So, River Song,” he said in a tone that made her shiver. “Exactly how hard do you want it?” There was a mad fervor in his eyes, and she suddenly realized that his speed hadn't been a way to tease her, but rather to control himself. She undid several of his shirt buttons before she answered.

“A hospital should know how to take care of a bruised cervix, don't you think?”

“Are you saying you want me to bruise you?” His mouth curled into a half smile.

“I'm saying I want you to  _ravish_  me. As hard as you want. No holding back.” Her eyes reflected his own almost-feral hunger, and she was incredibly hot and wet around him – and he let the last of his restraint fall away.

River let out a string of curses in several different languages as he suddenly and dramatically picked up speed. He thrust into her relentlessly, and she clutched at his chest so hard that he felt certain she wouldn't be the only one left with bruises. Her head was tilted back, mouth open, curls and tits bouncing as she surrendered to him wholly. He thought it was possibly the most erotic thing he'd ever seen.

“River...” He moved still faster, and River widened her legs as much as she could, moaning with every other breath, as she began to involuntarily flutter around him. He growled, leaning forward to nibble the skin above one of her breasts, then pressed his lips to her and sucked hard.

“ _Fuck_ , yes,” she breathed.

Soon he was dotting her skin with deep red love bites as he moved toward her nipples. Her nails had fastened themselves into his flesh – the marks she was leaving would be cuts, not bruises. He groaned in the back of his throat as he slid his tongue over a nub, setting his mouth firmly around it and biting it harshly with his front teeth. Her cry echoed around the control room, and it only made him hotter and more frenzied.

He rammed into her over and over again, losing all sense, all reason, inside the passion that was consuming him. Over the sound of his heavy breathing he could hear River's moans growing louder, and her inner walls were spasming against him harder and harder. Her hands were at his shoulders now, creating another set of deep marks to take with him when this was over. She was as lost in him as he was her.

Her nails dug in ruthlessly, and she called out his name – his real name – as she contracted violently against him in her release. It was his undoing, and he gave one last, furious thrust, his vision going white as he spilled inside her.

When his brain had put itself back together again, River was looking at him with shining eyes, her face full of emotion.

“My Doctor,” she whispered as he picked her up, still inside her, and gently lowered them both toward one of the chairs. She kissed him as he set her down – it was gentle and earnest, and in a rare unguarded moment he sank into it, his deepest feelings made manifest in the joining of lips and tongues.

When they broke apart, he finally slid out of her, and was just standing up when River cleared her throat, looking pointedly at his shirt. He sighed, then began undoing the rest of the buttons. “I always forget about this part. Why is it always so messy?”

“Don't worry about it. You're not the one who has to clean it up.” He shrugged out of the shirt, whereupon River sat on it.

“And that. You getting my clothes dirty. That always happens, too.”

“Pytjer Seven has the best dry cleaner in the universe. Must I always be the one to remind you? Anyway, love, most of this is yours.”

“Well,  _I'm_  going to go to the bathroom to clean up.” He paused for a moment, then grabbed a corner of the shirt and ran it over himself.

“What was that you said about a bathroom?”

“Right! On my way!” He leapt up, and she shook her head as he skittered over the TARDIS floor and out of sight.

River stood a few moments later, wincing as she did it. Oh, yes, she was sore, all right... painfully and wonderfully so. The TARDIS made a distinct beeping noise, and River looked at the console with a smile.

“Price of love, dear. You wouldn't understand.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When River and the Doctor stepped into the hospital lobby this time, the guards lowered their stun guns almost right away. One of them, a man wearing a distinctive red collar on his black jacket, narrowed his eyes at them, then checked the band on his wrist.

“What are you doing back so soon?”

“Special ship.” The Doctor adjusted his bow tie as he grinned.

“Four minutes to get to another planet and back? Exactly how fast can your ship travel?”

“Very. Don't have time to explain right now. Dr. Song needs to see one of your physicians.”

“What happened?”

“We had a bit of an accident. Too much reflected light. Human eyes are quite sensitive.”

The guard pressed a button on his wrist band. “Escort to main lobby.” He looked at River. “This way, please.”

River looked at the Doctor, then sighed at the expression on his face. “You're not staying.”

“Someone has to go find Marissa's counterpart in this universe, presuming she actually exists. Our Marissa doesn't have much time left.”

“Of course.” The afterglow was making sentimentality cloud her brain. She chided herself mentally. “Well, good luck.”

“Don't need luck, do I?” He gave the TARDIS a pat, then smiled brightly at River and waved before going back inside.

River took a step or two, grimacing at the pain in her abdomen. The security guard looked at her with concern.

“Are you all right, Dr. Song?”

“It's nothing. I'll be fine.” But in her head she was grinning. He really  _hadn't_  held back this time... in fact, it was the first time he'd ever given himself to her so completely, despite her protests in the past. He'd never left so many marks on her before, and that kiss as he'd put her down – if River hadn't known better, she'd have said that in that moment she could feel his real, true love for her.

But she did know better. This Doctor, this man she would love for as long as she lived, was never going to return her affection with the same intensity. Sex with her might have killed a few larvae, but the only real difference between his love for her and his love for her parents was that he'd never taken either of them to bed. It was the one aspect of him that she could truly claim for herself – and even that didn't happen often.

River sighed to herself. Even as she carried the proof of his ardor on her body, she was thinking about how little she had to hold onto of him. Love and loneliness... it was a perfect summary of her relationship with him. Yet she would willingly spend years of her life alone if it meant she'd get to see him one more time.

“Ma'am, are you sure you're all right?” the guard asked. River realized she was frowning. And walking very, very stiffly.

“Oh, don't worry about me," she said. “It's nothing a good doctor can't fix.”


	3. Ri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay in posting... have had a rough couple of weeks. The next two or three chapters will also be a good bit shorter. However, this means I'm more likely to be able to update more frequently, so maybe it's not so bad? ;)

The Doctor was struggling with the clasp of Marissa's silver clutch.

“So unnecessary,” he said to both himself and the TARDIS as he examined it. “Why do humans design purses they can't even open? Okay, if I twist the handle like that... no, that doesn't move. What about if I... ?”

A few false starts later, and the clutch deigned to open its top just slightly.

“A crowbar would have been quicker,” the Doctor muttered to himself. “All right, let's see. Wallet.” He pulled it out of the bag and peered at it. “This is almost as big as the bag! Why bother with a purse to begin with?” The wallet was far more sensible from his point of view – its zipper was easy to see and pull open.

“Lots of pockets! Love a good set of pockets.” His nimble fingers began to pull cards out of the front of the wallet, where they were stacked neatly in rows of three.

“Medical card... well, at least we've got the province now. Bank card with a chip. I suppose the Great Digital Robberies haven't started yet. University card – terrible picture. Aren't they always?”

He continued to dig through. “Oh, look, something to tell everyone she's B-positive. That's even worse than the chip. Then again, the blood drinkers don't visit for another few centuries, do they?” Then: “Well, hello, there! You beauty!”

He had finally found what he was looking for: a proper ID card. “Full name and address. Now we're getting somewhere. Issued in... 2016. Not far off, then. I wonder which year would be better?” He pondered for a moment, then clapped his hands together. “There must be a place for coins in here somewhere.”

He quickly found the wallet's built-in change purse, then pulled out a nickel. “Ah, beavers – best dam builders in the universe. And... Queen Elizabeth the second? Canadians had a queen?” He shrugged. “Beaver 2016, Queen 2017!”

He flipped the coin into the air, then caught it on the back of his hand expertly and raised his palm to peer at the raised side. “You know, you really don't look anything like the first Elizabeth. Shame. Two thousand seventeen it is!” He moved with his usual frenetic energy as he input the coordinates.

When the TARDIS ground to a halt, the Doctor hurried to the door, only to find himself with a face full of trees.

“You put me down in the middle of a forest? Really?” He walked around the side. “There's a parking lot right next to us! You couldn't have pointed the door that way?”

He sighed, then stepped outside, carefully observing the area. “Right. Leaves on the ground. Fall. I'd guess October, maybe November.” He sniffed the air. “Rain in about four or five hours.”

He began scanning with his sonic. “Satellite shows that her house is... right next to this patch of woods. And oh, look, there are walking trails! And a duck pond! Fantastic!”

A woman walking by with her dog turned to look at him, and he waved. Then he noticed her headphones. “Sorry! Didn't mean to interrupt! Yes, Max the dog, I wish she'd listen more, too. Would be a bit friendlier, wouldn't it?”

He turned the sonic off, then tucked it into his pocket. “Time to find out if Marissa's at home.”

~~~~~~~~~~

_Marissa Two_

Someone was knocking on the door.

Marissa could see the man's face from where she was sitting, through the porch doors. He was tall, with long-ish brown hair, and she'd just about been able to make out a dark suit jacket and neck tie as he'd walked by her main window.

Most days, Marissa would normally have run away from the door if a stranger came knocking. Maybe it was the suit that stopped her, or maybe just the way he knocked... a confident knock, but not aggressive. Someone who thought they had a right to gain entry, but probably not someone completely terrifying.

Instead of running away, she sat bolt upright on her couch for a second, staring at the computer screen where she'd been pinning Star Trek pictures on Pinterest. She took another glance at the current picture, one of Neelix spontaneously hugging the completely touch-averse Tuvok, and grinned just a little before she stood to unlock the inside door, then moved out into the porch.

By the time she opened the outer door, her face was neutral – but it didn't stay that way for long.

The man had taken a step or two away, and she could hear some sort of odd whirring sound. All at once, though, the noise stopped, and he spun around quickly, then smiled.

“Hello! Are you Marissa Simms?”

“That's me,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I'm John Smith. I was just wondering if I could ask you a few questions.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his psychic paper, flipping it open in front of her.

“Wait. You're from CSIS*?” Marissa took a tiny step into the doorframe. “Can I see that for a second?”

“Of course.” She took it from him, examining it carefully.

“These IDs are smaller than they used to be.”

“Times change.”

“You're telling me. Well, it looks pretty much like the ones I saw before.” She held it out to him, and he put it back inside his jacket. “Are they hiring a lot of Brits these days? I thought the idea was to be unobtrusive. A guy with a British accent is going to get noticed pretty much anywhere around here. Especially in clothes like that.”

“Yes. Well. Policies change, too.”

“Seems like an odd change in policy to me.” She stepped back inside the door frame, frowning vaguely. “Why do you want to talk to me, anyway? I mean, I was pretty sure no one was ever going to contact me again after the last chat I had with you guys.”

“The last chat?”

“Someone must have told you about it.” She was looking at him with suspicion now.

“This is about something else. Something quite different. I need your help,”

“I hardly even leave my house. What could I possibly help you with?” _Hardly leaves her house?_ That wasn't the impression the Doctor had gotten about the first Marissa when they'd met. Exactly how different was this universe's Marissa Simms?

“It would probably be easier to explain if we went somewhere else. Fancy a trip?”

“When I said I hardly leave my house, I wasn't joking.” She was suddenly serious... sad, even. “Anyway, where exactly would you be taking me? Out for coffee again?”

“Something like that.”

“Are you sure you need _me_? Isn't there someone else who's, I don't know, more stable that you could get to do whatever it is you're doing? You must have looked up my history by now.”

“Believe me when I say that you're uniquely qualified.” His face and tone were utterly sincere.

“Well, that hardly seems possible, but...” Marissa sighed. “Do you need me to go right now?”

“That would be good, yes. It's rather urgent. The sooner we can talk, the better.”

“ _That_ doesn't sound ominous at all.”

Was she normally this sarcastic? The Doctor was beginning to realize exactly how little he knew about the woman who'd been in his bed not so many hours ago. That Marissa had been open, warm, trusting. Were those qualities still there, or had the Marissa of this universe experienced life so differently that she was someone her counterpart wouldn't recognize?

“So what do you say?” he asked, spreading his hands and smiling. “We could just go for a walk down the street and back, all out in the open where anyone can pass by. Nothing ominous about that, is there?”

“I suppose not.” She sighed again. “Can you wait a few minutes while I get dressed?”

The Doctor looked down and saw that she was wearing a loose t-shirt, pyjama pants, and odd socks.

“Love the socks. Odd socks are cool.”

“Er... thanks. I'll be back.”

She practically ran back inside, and the Doctor was left to stand and wait, which was something he utterly loathed. But then his ears perked up: a river flowed just behind her back garden. Plenty of interesting things could lurk in water – and there was a whole ecosystem here to learn about.

It might kill a minute or two, anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Marissa finally opened her door again, the first thing she noticed was the whirring sound she'd heard before. _What in the world_ is _that?_ This time it was coming from the side of the house. She walked over to see the Doctor pointing something long and silver at the flowers. When he saw her, the object disappeared into his coat, and he straightened his bow tie.

Who even wore a bow tie? And why would someone from CSIS bother with a suit when coming to see her, especially one with such a conspicuous tweed jacket?

Marissa mentally shook her head. If she hadn't already seen the ID, she would never have believed he was an intelligence agent. Maybe he'd been part of some British intelligence force, then become a citizen here and transferred. Still, though... that tie, and whatever the hell that gadget was...

“Ah, you're ready. I thought we'd head this way.” He was turning left, which surprised her. All the major areas around her house were in the opposite direction.

“Where are we going? Were you planning to head to Elling Park or something?”

“What? Oh, that's what that park is called. Right. Well, I thought we might walk nearby, at least. It's such a lovely area.”

“You've been there?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“You really don't make much sense.” Marissa was beginning to feel very, very glad that she'd sent her mother a text saying where she was going, and who she was going with. She put her hand in her pocket, reassuring herself that the phone was still there.

“It will make sense soon, I promise. There's something I want to show you.”

“Here?” They had reached the parking lot just outside the main gate, which had very few cars in it... probably because of the nippy weather and overcast sky. “Is this where you parked?”

“Yes.”

“You couldn't have just parked on the side of the road next to my house?”

But he was heading toward the back of the patch of woods at the parking lot's side. Marissa was beginning to feel seriously uneasy now.

“I thought you said this wasn't going to be ominous.”

“You can stay right in the parking lot if you like. You'll still be able to see it from there.”

In spite of her apprehension, Marissa couldn't help being curious. If she could stay a distance back, it would be fine. Probably. She remembered the text, resting her fingers on the case of her phone, then moved forward.

She stopped dead when the blue box came into sight.

“What the heck? A police box? Why would a police box be here?”

“It's a special sort of police box,” he said cheerfully, casually leaning against it.

“Aren't police boxes supposed to be red?”

He blinked. “You've never seen a blue police box?”

“I've never seen one of these, period. They don't exist here. Isn't that a British thing? Of course, you're originally from the UK, aren't you? England, if I'm placing the accent right.”

“Er... yes.”

“So why the box? What's it for?”

“I thought you'd never ask.” That grin again. It was a jovial, silly sort of grin, and Marissa couldn't help liking it, even if she didn't trust him. “You see, this isn't any ordinary box.”

Marissa took a few steps forward, suspicion on her face again. “So you want me to get into a tiny, dark booth that's hidden in the woods, while you, a stranger, stand outside it?”

“Oh, humans. You always think you know everything.” That was definite amusement. He disappeared behind the box, and his words clicked.

“Humans? What do you mean, _humans_?” She saw a door swing open, and the Doctor peeked his head round the door, his hair flopping over his eyes. Her mind was starting to churn as she remembered some very strange events on Earth in recent years... but no. The box was so plain – so ordinary. It couldn't have anything to do with...

“Well, come on, then!” His voice held simultaneous frustration and excitement.

“Fine. I'll look.” She sighed, then walked forward, brushing against a fir tree to examine the door.

When she stepped inside, her breath caught in her throat.

“Oh my God. This... it's... what _is_ this?”

“It's called the TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimension in Space.”

“This is a space ship?”

“Yes.”

“Wait. You said time. It's a time ship, too?”

“Yes.”

“But it's...” Marissa took a few paces backward, then poked her head around the door. The same small police box was still there.

She stepped out, walking backwards into branches to see it better. Then she stepped back into the box. Blinked her eyes. Shook her head. At this point she'd completely forgotten that the Doctor was even there – all she could concentrate on was finding out, with 100% certainty, whether this massive ship was really all contained in such a tiny space. She thought for a second, and an idea came to her.

She faced the patch of woods outside, then touched her left forearm to the door and swung herself outward... and completely around the corner of the blue box. Her eyes went wide. She kept her left arm in place as long as she could, turning her body slowly back to the inside of the box, until she'd turned so far that only her hand remained in the same spot. She pressed it into the wood hard as it flipped over, then extended her right arm forward as she looked back inside – straight into the vast interior. Her hand had never left the door, but the ship still looked exactly the same inside as it had the first time.

This was no trick.

“Holy shit. It's so much _bigger_ on the inside. How is that possible?” Marissa whirled to face the Doctor, who had moved back just far enough to allow her motions.

“I have to admit, I've never seen anyone test the dimensions quite like that before.”

“I had to be sure it was real.”

She stepped forward, and her mouth fell open as she took it all in.

It was about as unlike the bridge of a Star Trek ship as you could get. The walls were a warm orange color, and curved outward in seemingly random places; they were patterned with circles and hexagons of all different sizes. There were three staircases, also seemingly set at random. In fact, almost nothing about the inside of this ship was regular. The floor was crisscrossed with beams underneath the glass, mostly obscuring what appeared to be another level beneath them, which she was grateful for.

However, the strangest part was what she could only imagine was the ship's core.

It was a clear tube, surrounded by strangely shaped consoles with all sorts of gadgets attached to them. The controls were even stranger... they all seemed to be buttons and knobs and levers. It would have given even Tom Paris a run for his money in the manual control department. And was that a TV dangling from the ring of steel circling the tube higher up? And were those _pulleys_?

“Don't touch anything.” The man's voice jolted her from her reverie.

“I won't.” Marissa was circling around the panel, trying in vain to make any sense of what she was seeing. How did he even fly this thing? There were so many unlabeled bits and pieces that just looking at it all made her head swim. She stood for another moment, staring, then turned back to the Doctor with wide eyes.

“Your ID said your name was John Smith. Is that actually true?”

“Nope. You can call me the Doctor.”

“Doctor what? Doctor of _what_ , exactly?”

“Oh, loads of things. No time to list them all.”

Marissa gave him an odd look, then started peering around again, Rails, and chairs, but no seat belts. Why did spaceships never have seat belts?

Then she noticed something black and rectangular on one of the chairs that looked very familiar.

“Is that a wallet?” She took a step toward it, then furrowed her brows. “Wait a second... that's a Chanel wallet. It looks just like the one I have.”

“There are a few things I need to explain to you.”

“What do you mean?” Something about his expression was decidedly strange, and she looked him directly in the eye. “What's all this about? Why did you bring me here? I mean, it's not that I don't want to be here. This is... well, it's _amazing_. But why me?”

“Go on,” he said, nodding toward the chair. “Look inside it.”

Marissa looked back at him, then at the wallet again, a prickly feeling rising to the back of her neck. Its zipper was already undone, so she opened it... and shock went through her as she took in its contents.

“But this is mine. How did you get my wallet? It's still at home, in my purse, and nobody else has been in my house for days. How can it possibly be here?”

She spun toward him, her eyes fierce. “Tell me what, _exactly_ , is going on. Now.”

“Why don't you have a seat?” He gestured to the chair. She was on the point of refusing when she realized that her hands were shaking. She dropped into the chair, putting various cards from the wallet and examined them minutely. Opened the coin purse. The wallet had a few dollar bills that hers didn't, but every other detail was flawless. It was definitely the real thing.

She was suddenly very glad she was sitting down.

“How did you get this?”

The Doctor, who had been studying her carefully since they'd entered the TARDIS, was starting to feel a little more hopeful. The two Marissas weren't as dissimilar as he'd feared. The wallets being identical was a good sign, and there were certain personality traits they did share. The most important one so far, in his mind, was that they were both emotionally intense. If one of them was empathic, the other almost certainly was, too.

“Well, you see, it isn't your wallet. Not precisely.”

“I don't understand.”

“This wallet belongs to a different Marissa Simms. One from another universe.”

The Marissa in front of him stared. “Another universe.”

“That's our current theory, yes.”

“Presuming for a second that you're actually telling the truth... if you've already got one Marissa, why do you need me?”

“Because the Marissa from the other universe is dying.”

Marissa Two shook her head. “Another me, from some other _universe_ , is dying. You really expect me to believe that?”

“After all the things that have happened on Earth in the last ten or fifteen years – from your perspective, at least – is this really so farfetched?” The Doctor was testing her even more now. Exactly how perceptive was this Marissa?

Marissa blinked, then looked down. “It still seems incredibly strange, but if aliens are actually real... I guess this could be, too. Maybe.”

After a moment she fixed her eyes on the Doctor again. “What happened to her?”

“To make a long story short, she was involved in a psychic link that malfunctioned, and her brain is collapsing... which means, of course, that all her body systems are shutting down, too. The only way she has any chance of recovery is if you help her.”

“What could I possibly do?”

“They have telepathic doctors at this particular hospital, but in order to restore her mind, they need... well, let's call it a telepathic blueprint. In her condition she's unable to give one.”

“But I could?”

“If you two are alike enough that your brains have similar compositions... yes. It's possible.”

“Hang on.” Marissa Two was thinking hard. “How is a telepathic blueprint going to fix a physical problem?”

“The physical brain on its own isn't so hard to restore... it's just a matter of atomic manipulation. What they can't restore is the brain's energy – the contents of her synapses, the patterns of fire, etc. If they replaced the physical matter right now, with nothing else inside it, she'd end up completely braindead. However, these particular physicians are working under the theory that thought can become energy, or even matter... and if that's true, your thoughts could be translated into the electrical impulses she needs to have her brain restored to functionality.”

“Thought and matter and energy, all the same. That sounds like something I heard on Star Trek once.”

“That's what Marissa said.”

“ _I'm_ Marissa.”

He nodded. “Yes, of course you are. Sorry. This might get a bit confusing.” He spun in a circle, then examined her again. “What you need is a new name. Any preferences?”

She was beginning to look distinctly displeased. “My name _is_ Marissa. I don't really call myself anything else. But I'm not some Marissa B, either. I'm the one who belongs in this universe. I don't come second.”

“Just pick something. Anything. Angie, Lauren, Moby Dick. I don't care.”

“Moby Dick?” Marissa couldn't help smiling. She paused for a moment. “All right. Call me... Ri.”

“A nickname?”

Ri nodded. “Not one I use very often... not at all since high school. But it's still me.”

“Excellent. Well, we'd best be off, then.” The Doctor began moving from panel to panel, throwing a lever here, pushing a few buttons there. Ri stood, then looked at him anxiously.

“Wait a second. I don't know if the cat's bowl is even filled up. I thought we were only leaving for a little while.”

The Doctor smiled. “This ship travels through time, remember? We can leave, go for as long as we need, and get back before we've even been gone a minute.”

“Oh. Right.”

He went back to manipulating the controls, and Ri visibly relaxed.

“So where exactly are we going? And when?” There was a sparkle in her eyes as she said it, despite how serious the situation was.

“Sisters of the Infinite Schism. 52nd century. Best hospital in the universe, at a point in time when some of its most capable staff was working there. The stories people tell about the Sisters' miraculous cures could fill a library. She'd never have a chance anywhere else.” He stopped for a moment to peer at her. “By the way, do you have any experience with aliens?”

“Real life experience? Not really, unless you count watching them through windows. But I've seen lots of sci-fi.”

“Doesn't truly prepare you for the reality, but I guess it's better than nothing. Just promise me you won't make any sudden movements when we're in the corridors.”

“Got it.”

The Doctor whirled a dial, then pushed down on one of the biggest levers. “And we're off!”

Ri heard a kind of screeching noise, and a tiny burst of yellow light went over the room – and the Doctor flipped the lever back up.

“Welcome to the 52nd century.”

“That was pretty anti-climactic.” Ri let go of the grip she'd had on the rails, looking around as she walked to the TARDIS doors. “I hardly even felt it move.”

“What were you expecting, a jump into warp drive? The TARDIS is far more sophisticated than that. She's designed for smooth rides.”

“Well, excuse _me_.” She grinned at him. “The noise isn't exactly smooth, though. What makes it sound like that?”

“Enough questions. We're in Marissa's real time now. We have to hurry.”

“Okay, okay. I'm going.” A hint of irritation was in her voice again.

They stepped out, and the half dozen guards were surrounding them, although this time they hadn't taken out their guns. Ri's eyes widened as she took a step back, but the Doctor smiled and waved.

“Hello again! I've got a visitor to bring along this time.”

“She looks like the girl you carried in here a few hours ago.”

“Hours?” Ri could see him start a little in the corner of her eye. “How long have I been gone?”

“Four hours and 32 minutes, Mr. Smith.”

“Mr. Smith?” Ri asked.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Need to go! See you all later!”

“Don't touch me!” Ri hissed, wrenching herself from the Doctor's grip. “What are you doing?”

He looked back at her. “Saving your life. I hope.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * CSIS is the Canadian equivalent of the CIA. The abbreviation stands for Canadian Security Intelligence Service.


	4. Meeting River

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's taking me longer to get this done than I'd anticipated, despite shorter chapters... probably because the subject matter is getting more difficult to tackle, along with the fic needing more editing than I'd thought. Thank you for bearing with me so far.

As Ri and the Doctor entered an elevator near the TARDIS, Ri found herself standing in the middle of several strange species.

“Floor 47,” the Doctor said aloud.

“That's the intensive care unit,” he whispered in Ri's ear. “Not far from the main lobby at all.”

“You call the 47th floor not far?”

“Shhh,” the Doctor said, looking around nervously. “See those chaps over there with the black feathers? They startle easily. Best not to provoke them.”

Ri swallowed and shut up.

The Doctor kept a step or two ahead of Ri on Floor 47. The corridors looked like they could belong in a classy hotel – the decor was beautiful, and the walls were oddly soothing. They passed what looked like a nursing station, surrounded by glass; Ri couldn't hear anything, but there was a flurry of activity inside, most of which was so speedy and garish that she had to avert her eyes.

The Doctor looked at something inside the glass, then turned to her. “Room 14. Follow me.”

When Ri and the Doctor walked inside, the bed was empty; the room's only occupant was a woman with a light tan and extremely curly blonde hair. When she saw them she stood up immediately, putting the book she'd been reading on the chair beside her.

“Doctor! You found her.” The woman smiled at Ri, then extended her hand. “I'm Dr. River Song.”

“Call me Ri.” The woman had a very definite presence... as if she was taking up half the room just by being there. The smile, the handshake, the way she'd addressed the Doctor – they were all full of confidence and certainty. Yet there was something warm about her, too.

“So are you an actual doctor, then?” Ri asked. River grinned.

“Yes. Doctorate of Archaeology.”

“And is River Song _your_ real name?”

“Why do you ask?”

“It's just... well, it's a bit of an unusual name, isn't it? And he didn't tell me _his_ real name.”

River paused for a moment before she answered. “River Song isn't the name I was born with, but it's what I go by. It's as real a name as any other.”

Ri simply nodded.

“How are your eyes?” the Doctor asked.

“Normal, more or less. The doctor said my peripheral vision should fully clear in a few days. He gave me pills.” River patted her jumpsuit, and a tiny rattle sounded from somewhere inside.

“Excellent. So where did they take the stasis chamber?”

“Stasis Room Two. I don't suppose you know where that is.”

“Let's find out, shall we?” The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver, and Ri's eyes widened as he activated it.

“ _That's_ the noise I kept hearing outside! What is that thing?”

“Sonic screwdriver. I was analyzing the flora and fauna. Bit of a hobby of mine. You've got a rather interesting variety of arachnids living in your house.”

Ri grimaced. “Do we really have to talk about that? And anyway, shouldn't we be going to the chambers, or whatever?”

The Doctor nodded. “Yes. They're just down the hall. Two lefts, a right, left at the fork, and then three doors on the right.”

This time they walked through the main part of the ICU, which was about as hellish as Ri remembered intensive care being. Many sections of the walls were transparent, and every room Ri could see into was colored the same stark white as the one where “Marissa” had been. Many of the patients, almost all of whom were distinctly alien, were screaming, wailing, or making a variety of sounds not found in nature. There were also some nasty-looking body fluids flowing through several of the rooms – and not just on the floors. Ri did her best to ignore the chaos, but it was impossible to block out everything.

A few minutes later, they finally entered a sterile, quiet hallway.

“Here we are. Door number three,” the Doctor said, swinging it open with a flourish.

When Ri stepped inside, it was like she'd walked into another world. The lighting was dim and purple, and large upright pods not unlike sarcophagi were lined up in several rows, as if they'd been put up for display. The whole thing felt like a cross between a museum and a morgue.

A bright florescent light snapped on above their heads, and Ri squinted, shielding her eyes from the glare.

“Please state your name and intention.” The voice was genderless and pleasant – and disembodied. Try as she might, Ri couldn't figure out where it was coming from.

It was River who spoke this time. “Dr. River Song, bereaved of Marissa Simms. Here to transport to a scheduled medical appointment.”

“Bereaved?” Ri asked, puzzled. “I thought she was still alive.”

“She is. It's how the Sisters refer to those who are waiting for their loved ones to recover, especially if they're close to death. Sensitivity training, you know.”

“Er... right.” Ri didn't ask what she really wanted to, which was why the hell the two of them were considered her bereaved in the first place.

“You may step forward to Stasis Unit Three,” said the voice. “Transport will be with you shortly. Our sincerest sympathies during this trying time.”

“Thank you.”

When they arrived at the unit, the Doctor looked at the control panel in its side, then pressed several buttons in a row. Slowly, the top half of the pod became more and more translucent, until it looked like there was no barrier at all between themselves and the pod's occupant.

The Doctor gently nudged her. “Go on. Take a look.”

Ri swallowed, then stepped closer.

The woman looked as much like Ri as if she'd been a perfect clone. Her entire upper body was visible at this angle, covered only by a sleeveless shift, and Ri took a brief look at her hair, face, glasses. Then her gaze shifted to the woman's left forearm, which had been turned slightly outward, and all remaining doubt was driven from Ri's mind.

Marissa had every single one of Ri's scars, and they were all in precisely the same places as her own. Ri touched her sweater reflexively.

_So this is how it looks from the outside._

“How exact a match would you say she is?” The Doctor spoke so closely to Ri's ear that she jumped. He was peering inside the chamber himself, running the screwdriver up and down its surface.

“She has all the same scars as me. _All_ of them.”

“The ones on your forearm.” That was River.

“Yes.”

“Would you mind if I had a look?” The Doctor glanced at her arm, and Ri's eyes became fierce.

“Actually, yeah, I kinda would.”

“Let her be,” River said behind them. “The doctors can do a physical if they need to.” Ri looked back at her gratefully, and River gave a small smile.

“ _Transport approaching._ ” A metal contraption was being wheeled forward by several identical-looking aliens, who resembled fleshy-looking flowers – petals and all. Ri watched them with fascination as they began the transfer process.

“Don't stare,” the Doctor whispered. More alien etiquette rules, no doubt. Ri focused on the pod instead, looking on as her replica was smoothly lifted to the mobile platform, and followed silently when the Doctor gestured to her.

~~~~~~~~~~

All of this was mild, however, compared to what awaited them when they arrived back in the ICU.

The room had seemed quite large the first time Ri had been there, but now it felt crowded and cramped. A horde of personnel were doing about a dozen different things simultaneously. All sorts of gadgets had been brought into the room; the pod was being opened, and a host of tubes and and wires were being taken off her counterpart, most of which were replaced almost immediately by new equipment. Several IVs were also being attached, and Ri couldn't help wincing as she remembered all the times she'd had them in her own arms. Everything around her was starting to look far too much like hospitals stays she'd had in the past, and her anxiety was rising rapidly.

She was overcome by a desperate urge to escape.

“I'm going to go out in the hall,” she said hurriedly. “I just... need some air.”

Ri moved several feet away from the door before she sank down, burying her face in her hands as she tried to compose herself. Even in an alien hospital, surrounded by creatures she'd never seen before, she was managing to be triggered by tiny details that reminded her of her past. She couldn't just leave altogether, especially if she was the other Marissa's only hope... but she had no idea where she was going to find the strength to do this.

A few minutes later, Ri felt a hand touch her shoulder. It was Dr. Song.

“The Doctor asked me to check on you. They'll be ready for us in a few minutes.”

Ri turned her head just enough to peek at River. “Us? Who's us?”

Since Ri seemed disinclined to move, River decided to sit on the floor nearby.

“The Doctor didn't tell you?”

Ri reluctantly raised her head, resting her chin on her hands. “Tell me what?”

River sighed. “I should have known he'd leave me to do all the explaining.”

“He said that the other version of me was dying because of some kind of psychic link that went wrong.”

“But he didn't tell you what the link was?”

“No.”

River leaned against the wall. “I was the one who was linked with her when it happened. We were using a system that had one transmitter and one receiver. She had the receiver at the time.”

“Why were you even linked with her? What were you doing?”

“It was supposed to be a pleasure enhancer.”

“What do you...” Ri stopped dead, and her eyes went wide. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me that you and she...”

River nodded.

“But you were with _me_?” Ri was blushing harder than she could ever remember doing in her life. “You are so out of my league. I can't believe you'd want to do anything with any version of me.”

“You're both incredibly insecure.”

“You saw my arm. You saw _her_ arm! I think we have something to be insecure about!” Ri's voice was vehement. “I wear my past on my skin, and it's never going to go away. Let's not even get into the rest of the things I could say about my body, because frankly I'm already triggered enough.”

“We all have scars,” River said. “It's just that some of us can hide them more easily. It's obvious that you were in pain at some point... and it's just as obvious that those scars are years old. Whatever happened to you, you moved on from it.”

“I guess.”

“Marissa and I used the psychic link twice,” River continued. “The first time, she was the one transmitting to me. It started out as just a tool to enhance sex, but after awhile some of her other emotions bled through. I've felt some of the things she feels – and if you're as much like her as I think you are, you definitely have things inside you to be confident about. Not everyone is capable of that level of feeling. Or that sort of empathy.”

The words made Ri feel even more flustered, but she did her best to hide it. “Empathy is a bit of a double-edged sword. I get all the bad feelings, too.”

River tilted her head. “Are you an empath, then?”

“Not in some kind of psychic way. Just the mild human version.”

“The Doctor was right.” River's face softened slightly. “That means we can save you. Well, the other you.”

“She's me, but she isn't me. I can't tell you how much I hate that. Honestly, I don't even want to look at her.”

“I don't think I'd be very happy about meeting myself, either.”

“And she's in a fucking ICU.” Ri looked at River with sudden and distinct unhappiness. “Did she tell you anything about her history?”

“Truth be told, we'd only just met.”

“And she was with you like that?”

River sighed a little. “Okay, I'd only just met _her._ She already knew who I was... knew all about me, in fact.”

“I don't understand.”

“What she told us is that she's from another universe where this is fiction. The Doctor, I mean. Me. Presumably the TARDIS. I don't know what else.”

Ri scoffed. “That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.”

“Normally I'd agree... but the Doctor actually seems to be considering the possibility.”

“You do have to wonder how she got here, if she really is me,” Ri said contemplatively. “You both seem to think she is. No chance that she's some sort of clone or something?”

River laughed. “All those scans have been done. Definitely not lab-grown, or a shapeshifter, or anything like that. But to answer your question from before, the method by which we three met was, well, unusual. It didn't lend itself to asking a lot of questions about each other.”

“So you got with her without knowing anything about her?”

“Well, yes. Is something wrong with that?”

“You must have been hella horny.”

River grinned widely, and her expression was so smouldering and sensual that Ri flushed hotly. “Oh, believe me, we were.”

At that precise moment, an alien, one who looked strangely like a stuffed animal, stuck their head around the door. “River? Ri? We're about to begin.”

River stood, then looked at Ri. “Are you ready?”

“No. But I'm never going to be.”

Ri slowly got up, then gave River a searching look before they both walked inside.

 


End file.
